What would you give? To go back for a moment, to have a chance to make that difference, to say goodbye. "You'll get through" they say, "It won't hurt anymore" but it does hurt. You grow resilient to the pain, you forget. You go days, even weeks, without thinking about it. Then when you are at your lowest they hit. Like a dam that has broken it heppens, and you are immobolized by this feeling of grief and remorse and the only thing that keeps you going is hope. Hope what gets us through the hardest moments of our life. That hope that someday it will be better, that we are making a difference. "Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence." Hope can keep us strong, hope can build as new roads. But still the feeling stays the nagging feeling that it is futile, that you should give up. Let the grief sweep over you, and it will get better. But it doesn't. I miss you grandad, I'm sorry I didn't love you enough, while I still had the chance.
Spread the love not the legs